


You Can Leave A Toothbrush At My Place

by phenomenology



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, and based off that DNCE song toothbrush, it's stupid, this is quite literally just about 1k words of them being soft idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenomenology/pseuds/phenomenology
Summary: “Hey, babe?” He called into the bedroom. Stiles’ feet could be heard padding quietly towards the bathroom as he answered with a cheerful, “yeah?”“Is this your toothbrush?”





	You Can Leave A Toothbrush At My Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is so stupid and short and literally just some self-indulgent fluff I needed to get out of my system. Enjoy.

Stiles can’t breathe.

He isn’t really sure why he can’t breathe, and he also thinks that he should probably be more concerned about the fact that the only action keeping him alive is being hindered at the moment. But his mind is sleep addled and pleasantly warm and detached. Memories of last night float blissfully through his subconscious, of large hands, calloused fingers, warm breath sliding over his skin; preceding plush lips surrounded by the scratch of unshaven stubble.

Stiles is in heaven and he _can’t fucking breathe_.

“Derek,” Stiles wheezes out somehow. His arms are sore as hell from holding his upper body up against the mattress half the night while Derek had been behind him—and _fuck_ now was not the time to be thinking about that.

“Derek you _ass_ , get off of me I can’t breathe,” Stiles’ words are gasped out and desperate, accompanied by weak, tired shoves at the mass currently draped over his entire body.

Groaning at the disturbance, Derek’s head lolls a little to the side, his rough stubble grinding across the bare skin of Stiles’ sternum. Despite the movement, Stiles’ apparently clingy boyfriend still has yet to actually get off of Stiles’ damn chest.

Huffing shortly with the little breath he has left, Stiles rolls at the same time he shoves Derek sideways. Derek lets out an indignant noise at being tossed off his warm and snuggly pillow while Stiles gasps in desperate breaths of bedroom air. Feeling the grateful burn in his chest, Stiles’ body lets him know now that there are other pressing issues he needs to handle.

But his fucking boyfriend has rolled closer and gone full koala. Stiles yet again is unable to move. Even though he can breathe in this position, it’s still inconvenient.

“Babe, if you don’t let go of me I will pee on you and everything you love,” Stiles threatens seriously. His bladder feels like it’s about to burst.

“You’d have to pee on yourself, then,” Derek mumbles, half-awake, into Stiles’ shoulder (he should really make Derek shave, that stubble is starting to _hurt_ ).

“Well, that’s about to become a reality if you don’t let me go. And if it does happen, you get to change the bed sheets.”

Growling low in his throat in the most unthreatening way Stiles has ever heard, Derek reluctantly releases his boyfriend, who immediately scrambles up from the tangle of bed sheets and flees for the bathroom.

Coming back a couple minutes later, Stiles sighs as he proceeds to try and drag Derek from the bed. Derek, however, is adamantly determined to remain in bed for as long as possible, despite Stiles’ insistent tugging at his arms and legs and begs to ‘babe, please get up’.

“Derek it is almost ten in the morning and I’m a hungry, growing boy. Get up and help me make waffles or I’m hiding all of your k-cups until you make this up to me.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” the sleepy mumble comes from the bundle of blankets on the bed.

“Fucking try me.”

Derek reluctantly gets up and stumbles down to the kitchen with Stiles happily skipping along beside him. He’s humming something about waffles and how much he loves Derek for being a good boyfriend. Derek, however, is just glad that he can enjoy his damn coffee. 

* * *

Derek trudged into his bathroom, sighing heavily as he rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t understand why his boyfriend wanted to go somewhere on a damn Saturday. They were supposed to just sleep the whole day, or at least just curl up on the couch and watch movies together. He didn’t want to go out and have to face the world.

Grumbling, Derek reached for his toothbrush and yawned largely. He paused halfway to the toothbrush holder, staring at it in surprise for a few extended moments. He could hear Stiles faintly rustling around in his closet on the other side of the bedroom, probably stealing his shirts again. It had been adorable at first, seeing Stiles just slightly drowning in Derek’s too big flannels. Now Derek was forced to steal them back whenever he was at Stiles’ apartment, just so he actually _had_ shirts.

But this – what Derek was looking at – meant so much to him for some reason.

“Hey, babe?” He called into the bedroom. Stiles’ feet could be heard padding quietly towards the bathroom as he answered with a cheerful, “yeah?”

“Is this your toothbrush?”

Stiles poked his head around the doorframe and glanced from Derek to the toothbrush holder on the sink. 

“Uhm…yeah? Who else would leave a toothbrush here?”

A fond smile curled onto Derek’s lips and he turned to kiss Stiles quickly on the cheek. 

“What was that for? Why are you asking about my toothbrush?”

“No reason,” Derek shrugged, feeling more awake with the surge of love that passed through his chest. He felt a little more able to go out to that park Stiles wanted to drag him to. “It just feels so domestic. Like you actually live here with me.”

Stiles’ cheeks flushed bright red and he hid his face quickly behind his hand.

“W-What the fuck, babe? That’s so cheesy, who are you and what have you done with the real Derek?” 

“I love you, too,” Derek chuckled, grabbing his own toothbrush and loading it with toothpaste. He happily watched Stiles melt under the fond look Derek wouldn’t stop giving him. This whole thing really warmed Derek’s heart, loving the idea of spending all of his time with Stiles. They were practically inseparable already, but they had yet to officially move in together. It was a step that hadn’t really talked about yet. 

Rinsing his mouth quickly, Derek looked up at Stiles and smiled soft and easy. “You know, if you wanted to move in together, all you had to do was ask.”

Stiles somehow managed to turn an even brighter shade of red, much to Derek’s amusement. He reached over to Stiles and drew him into a hug, kissing the top of his boyfriend’s wild head of hair.

“I wouldn’t mind living with you,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shoulder, the quiet words making Derek’s heart soar with happiness.

“I wouldn’t mind living with you, either,” Derek said around a large smile. “But you’ll have to bring your own toothbrush.”


End file.
